She hastened to the dressing-room at the rear. Stella Dallas felt as uncomfortable in the restaurant with her face all red and splotchy, as the school-teacherish little woman would have felt in her stocking-feet. It was with no thought of any man in particular that she set to work again to make herself presentable, now that she had herself under better control; or, at least, with no serious thought of any man in particular. She was always playing with the possibility that some old admirer might run across her path at any moment, and always taking necessary precautions.

Prepared as her cheeks may have been, Stella was taken by surprise when somebody leaned across the little table which she had selected beside the wall-mirrors and drawled in a masculine voice, “Well!”

She knew it was Alfred Munn before she looked up. Nobody else in the world could say “Well,” like that. All sorts of interesting implications were packed into the single exclamation.

She glanced up and replied briefly, her blue eyes sparkling at him, “Hello!”

She didn’t like Ed Munn. Stephen had been right. He was cheap. It showed now that he wasn’t dressed in his riding-clothes any more. But even if she didn’t like him very much, she couldn’t be horrid to him. Stella Dallas couldn’t be horrid to anybody whose eyes flattered her like that!

“What are you doing here?” he asked in a kind of caressing tone, as irresistible to the lonely Stella as food by whomever offered if she were hungry.

“I’m waiting for you!” her voice caressed back at him. Oh, a little harmless flirting was the one thing she needed to restore her wilted spirits!

Alfred Munn smiled at her, showing a row of little crooked yellow teeth. His face crackled up into a hundred pleased wrinkles. Attention from the opposite sex was as welcome to him as it was to Stella.

He drew out the chair opposite Stella, thinking, as he did so, What have I got on for this afternoon anyhow? Only two appointments; I can cancel ’em. What he said was, as he sat down, “Where’s the offspring?”

Stella thought, Dear me! How thrilling! He’s going to stay! But out loud she said, “Just shipped her to New York.”

“You alone?” Alfred Munn exclaimed. “Unattached? No string tied to you?”

Stella, pouting a little, looking pathetic on purpose, nodded. “All alone. No string. Not a thread.”

Alfred Munn drew in a deep breath. Let it out audibly.

“My! This is my lucky day, I guess,” he ejaculated. “We’re going to have lunch together—you and I, and go to a show afterward. Did you know it?”

Stella, casting down her eyes, and toying with the silver, shook her head. No. She didn’t know it.

“Well,” masterfully, “you know it now. Here, pass me that menu.”